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Melissa Michelle Mariposa
Melissa Michelle MariposaLa tendresse de l’airEntre nousBids me to silenceThe peace of love burnsLike an untended fireAn unintentional consequenceThat grows in the honesty of the undertowThat shivers and hopes that it glows
Take what weapons you will from the wallThe axe, the pole, or the awlMy master, my shield, may call out a namethis hourThe sound I imagine is framed by a fearful, deadly,…
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Dragon's Breath
Found this poem I wrote in 2006. The energy here is re-invigorating for me. Feels like one of those times I was finding my voice.
Quiet, little ones
We are trapped, momentarily, in the room that has nosound, black and white, around and around and aroundshake, squeeze, but we are fixed, these consciousmonuments of wax and sticks and marblebits likeBabylon, whore, what dost thou intend to do to shake, manoeuvreshift the weighty blame, thine own unholy namefrom you?
hyperion sends his love. He says youshould have called. I…
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Evidence of Wind
Stun cold clouds
with eyes
wrung dry from flying
Bring close the supranatural seed of silver salt
Embrace those false surprises
of the dying
Inject your mind again with hidden faults*
Resurrect the exhalation
and the
invitation
Feeble hands, embrace your freezing lungs
Follow all the paths of loudest expectation,
triple in the proudest of the tongues
*Psalm 19:12
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ICHTHYS
Because of the plaques,
I wouldn’t wear black.
It shouldn’t prevent us, brothers.
Keep checking the mirror
And brush off your shoulders.
Rely on the blindness of others.
“Dieu veut, Dieu veut,”
but what does God want?
We ponder the IX of the ichthys:
The sign of the fish
and the wheel of bread—*
The feel of the psora invictus.
I took an injection,
Provided protection,
Delivered the comfort I needed.
Erasing the marks,
I returned to the dark
to tend to the sorrows I seeded.
Dieu m’a dit:
Sois pêcheur,
So n’ayez pas peur.
You were born as a fish, but no more.**
I am building a man
With the skill of my hand,
Delivering that which I swore.
Stop breathing in water—
You’re ready for drinking.
Start moving your arms;
You’re steadily sinking.
The ocean is large;
The fishes are schooling—
Keep watch on the lines I’m unspooling.
Because of the itch,
The fisherman’s rich.
We gather his netfuls of brothers.
As some would suggest,
At Jesus’ behest,
We float on his prayers, and others.
*Revisiting the Ichthys: A Suggestion Concerning the Origins of Christological Fish Symbolism by Tuomas Rasimus
**Brady Traywick, Calling Others
#poems on tumblr#original poems#poets on tumblr#poetry#poem#poetsandwriters#poets corner#poetsofinstagram#poemoftheday#poetsofig#poetrycommunity
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Psalm 1 / Water + Air
I couldn’t
hold
myself back
The beauty of our afternoons
left me biting at the air
The evening discovery
like a lake full of laughter
shared without speaking
The glad tidings communicated
by king’s edict
into the silence
under water
I hope you find this message
and kiss me, your brother,
within the gates of the
crystal city
as we dance our
flying freedom song
like flags and
fountains, both filled and flowing,
both water and air
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With Invitation
Exo exo aye
No supper tonight
But high-sided advice
Upon this I dine regularly
It is no feast for the eyes
But the mind grows strong and fat
and flatulent
To die right is one way to
celebrate the night
And so I slide
off of the horse, take off my robe, and
slouch away to bed to
pray that for such a
time as this
I am appointed
to have my head removed
for approaching the king
within his gates
and at his invitation
How he honors me
In holding back his hand
Haman was not hanged:
he starved to death
https://justinleeparker.medium.com/with-invitation-71341287393a
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Scales
Scarves towed by wind
Pull all heads back and up
The sky is filled with
Looking-glass light
Scales balanced by this type
of sight cannot yet support
the true exchange of goods—
this ideal Plato might have liked
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Photo
I posted this on FB and Insta and most people were weirded out. I just can’t stop laughing with enjoyment.
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Roadside Assistance
Like cruise control to gasoline, this imagemaintained by fantasy,built on recent echoes still flatly shouting fortune,burning equal parts honesty and oil,a viscous opportunity which circles in succession,sparked by the impulse to rest —to find the end of fighting andsoak up delicious soupwith the certainty of safe travels, warm blankets,no need for roadside assistance
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Television
Where do you store a secret horde of curiosity?
Where do you storea secret hordeof curiosity?Is it formed by instinct or art?What gives a question its engine,entices the ego to dive into thought?
While,at the end of the nightmy mind has topull and togrip at itsplight
If the gravity’s right,it’s an easy decision:I don’t have to fight the syncretic collisionsFree radicals formed between daytime and eveneglect their existence —I land a…
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I Don’t Recognize This Road
This was a for a photo contest with Rattle (“Dog Walking” by Alice Pettway). Didn't take the prize, but still got this interesting story out of it.
Photo viewable here: https://i0.wp.com/www.rattle.com/ekphrasis/EC19Nov.jpg?ssl=1
I used to count the lamps along my routeAnd lift myself above the window’s edgeto see inside the government
We used to walk together,climb the fire escapes we weren’t supposed to climb,higher and faster and farther
We used to dance and hop and teasethe dogs who met us on the streetWe were frisky, happy pups
***
It’s overcast this afternoonAnd people carry bags of foodGot nothing for this…
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To Enlist
Never had serious intentions of enlisting, but I've thought a little about the courage it takes to do so
He was going to enlistin the army of the WestBut couldn’t pass the test
He was going to defeatall the enemies of stateBut couldn’t hold the weight
He was going to investin the color of his shirtBut couldn’t dig the dirt
Now I’m going to retreat,no more courage in my heartCause I couldn’t play the part
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